


Weathering the Storm

by Deannie



Series: Comfort and Joy and Zombies [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Post-Iron Man 2, Trust Issues, bros, zombies aren't just zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Uh, JARVIS?” Tony called, mock-blithely. “Give me the definition of a zombie? Beyond bokors and voodoo.”</p><p>
  <code>“A zombie is a person or machine who is controlled by others and lacks free will.”</code>
</p><p>James looked at Tony’s too candid eyes and just froze. Damn it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weathering the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of my Comfort and Joy and Zombies fics: a series of short fics that center around zombies, and the myriad definitions thereof.

“So you’re saying I was a zombie?” James sat back in his chair, enjoying the flight from DC back to California on Tony’s jet. He still felt like he’d been beaten bloody—which he had. How the hell did Tony put up with the pain of fighting in that suit _all_ the time? 

“The suit, Rhodey, the suit. Was a zombie.” Tony took another long swig of his drink and James followed his lead. Alcohol did actually make it a _little_ better. “So, by extension, yeah. You were a zombie.” 

James shook his head. “I thought I handled myself pretty well,” he argued, the scotch making him more prone to picking a fight. 

“Uh, JARVIS?” Tony called, mock-blithely. “Give me the definition of a zombie? Beyond bokors and voodoo.” 

`“A zombie is a person or machine who is controlled by others and lacks free will.”`

James looked at Tony’s too candid eyes and just froze. Damn it. 

“I didn’t pick that fight, Tony.” 

“No,” Tony agreed. “You just followed orders.” He found another place to look and that was somehow worse than the accusation in his direct gaze. “You let me down, pal.” 

Now wait a minute. “Tony, I didn’t let you down.” That needed to be dealt with. Tony had spent a lifetime with people letting him down and he never took it well. “I did what I was ordered to do, yes, but—” 

“No, no, I get it,” Tony broke in, in that irritating way of his. “Following orders. It’s good.” 

“Tony, you needed help.” James flashed back on Tony in his basement, barely able to stand, dying by inches because he didn’t bother to ask for something any of them would have given him in a heartbeat. “You needed help and as usual, you wouldn’t take it, and I had a job to do, too.” He drained his glass, wishing he’d been able to do this all a different way. “Iron Man deserves a better legacy than Hammer’s crappy knock offs.” 

“Zombies,” Tony corrected. He was going to turn this into a joke. Because that was what Tony did, even in private. It had always fascinated James that Tony the guy was so completely different from Tony Stark, but the fact remained that in either arena he hid behind sarcasm and trash talk more than he let people in. 

James tried to explain himself. “Man, you were dying. You told me as much. At least with War Machine—” 

“War Machine?” Tony broke in, a little bitter as he walked to the sideboard and poured himself another glass of scotch. “You’re really going with that?” 

James let himself be sidetracked. “Public Relations thinks—” 

“Oh, Public Relations, yeah,” Tony replied, nodding his head. “The Air Force’s Public Relations. Which are great—” 

“Tony.” James used the tone of voice he always did when he wanted Tony to stop being a moron and listen. Tony once told him he sounded like his dad. “With this suit being used in a peacekeeping capacity, I felt like I had a chance to make sure the tech kept doing what you wanted it to do. But you were never going to give me the chance to explain that.” 

Tony was silent for a very long time. “Probably not,” he agreed. He let out a deep breath. “As long as you’re the only one who wears it,” he said finally. “And I can refit the entire computer system so it can’t be zombified again.” He drained that second scotch. “And we strip all the damn Hammertech off of it.” His eyes flashed with purpose, like the old Tony, for the first time since all this began. “I have a new repulsor design I want to try out. I might even let the Air Force have my old one if this one works out for me.” 

“Oh, so I’m getting your hand-me-downs now,” James said, his own smile growing. Twenty-plus years of friendship and he and Tony were still weathering storms. Felt pretty damn good, actually. 

“You always were, Rhodey,” Tony explained, like James was an idiot. “The Mark II is old news, buddy. I mean, come on, I practically _gave_ it to you.” 

“Man, that is bullshit. I beat your ass fair and square.” 

“Whatever. I was dying. Doesn’t count.” Tony tapped his chest where the reactor that both repulsed and fascinated James burned brighter than ever. “With this new baby, the Mark V is the one to beat.” Tony cocked his head and smiled. “Until I finish the Mark VI.” 

James let him have it, just glad to know that, for now, Tony was going pull through a little more hell. “All right, I’ll tell my superiors and you can get started. Full revision on the armaments. Beef up the security—” 

“Anti-zombie shielding,” Tony agreed. “And _they_ are _your_ superiors,” he pointed out, eyes back on James, who knew exactly what he was looking for. “How are you going to tell them what to do?” 

James stood up and headed for the scotch, feeling every ache and pain of the battle at Stark Expo. “Like you said, anti-zombie shielding.” 

Tony stayed silent as James poured himself a tall shot and settled stiffly back into his chair, just as they both felt the jet begin its descent into LAX. For all that the two of them bickered like brothers, James and Tony had spent hours in companionable silence before and would again. 

“Man, I really am going to be a zombie if I don’t get home and log some serious sleep,” James complained as they touched down. “I am not looking forward to the drive home.” 

“Stay at my place,” Tony said, reaching for his overnight bag. 

“You blew up your place.” 

“No, _you_ blew up my place.” 

“I seem to remember—” 

Tony raised his hands. “Truce, okay? Truce.” He pondered the problem for a long moment as they waited for the okay to open the door. “Ritz-Carlton?” 

James shook his head. “Last time you busted up the place, they said you couldn’t come back.” 

“That was before,” Tony tossed off. “I’ve changed. I’m Iron Man!” 

Yeah, Tony sure as hell had changed. And thank God, he was still the best friend James was ever going to have. 

“Man, have you seen your living room?” 

Tony considered it. “Point…” 

*****  
the end

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of (hopefully) 24 ficlets (500 word minimum) featuring zombies, with or without winter holiday references (Hannukah, Kwanza, etc, gratefully accepted as possibilities). If you want to suggest a ficlet prompt, check this entry of mine: http://deannie.dreamwidth.org/11597.html or leave a comment on any fic in the series. (Obviously, that offer only extends until December 24th, 2015, and I reserve the right to have life intervene.


End file.
